March 20, 2006

In New York

A recent trip south brought out interesting thoughts, meanders, trips to far away places and a few closer ones.

Where are you from? New York, you reply. I know, I say quickly. I see your eyebrows raise as if to say, “why did you ask me if you knew?” I wonder why myself.

You ask me the same and I say I’m from New York too, but upstate. You clarify to make sure its truly upstate, as if I’m taking a test. I pass.

You have an intensity about you, I think and then find myself saying it aloud. You knew I noticed before I opened my mouth. Oh, you say, as if surprised, but you’re really not. Are you offended or amused? Anxious or flattered? A combination of all?

Where in New York? Why do you ask, you reply. You think, she knows I’m from Manhattan. You wonder where I’m going. I’m not sure I know.

You have an energy about you, I think and find myself saying it aloud. Ah, you say, no longer appearing surprised. Yes, you reply, and add “as do you.”

What is this energy, you ask? A vibrant curious energy, I reply.

Does it have a color to it, you ask? Many, I reply. What shades do you see, I ask? Many, you reply.

You’re really with me, thank you, I say effortlessly. Huh, you say and look up from your coffee cup, now half empty. But then you reply slowly, yes.

I am here you say. Yes. Yes, you are here.

You start to look out the window at the people passing by the café, holding umbrellas, walking their dogs, picking up their newspaper at the corner stand. Do they see us, you wonder?

You’re gone for awhile but you know I notice. I like the fact that you know I notice.